For your grand exploits you have been called to the City of Clouds. There is to be competitions of all sorts. The kings of the lands have come together to create this wonderful display of competition.
There is a wonderful stage that has been setup in the main colosseum so that the competitors can show off their physique or make a grand display of your skills.
The Ikarian moved onto the stage in a simple exomis, the cloth not dyed and displaying the natural color of the wool. The cloth was draped over his right shoulder, and extended below his waistline a matter of a few inches, held against his body by a belt across that waistline. His bulbous nose protruding above his close-cropped beard got you to realize how low his head is, how short he is compared to a normal man. The top of his head might be armpit high for most men! But as little as the exomis hides, no one can miss the broad shoulders, barrel chest, or thick limbs. Most athletes display rippling muscles, but his form looks softer than expected for an athlete.
"I am Kallikles, from the island of Ikaria. I have stumbled on this athletic opportunity and mean to make the best of it. I will join wrestling, stone tossing, swimming, racing, and any other event I can attend! The point is to compete, to show what we are capable of doing! Yes, there are winners, because someone is always better than the others on that day, but the point is to work hard, compete, and ensure everyone knows you were here."
Well my dear, how about a bit of a musical performance? Sviatoslav asks his phantom
Whatever floats your boat. Oh god, do you want me to use the sacred I-Phone to summon the Instrumental Sabbaton? He get the somewhat disinterested answer
Darling, you could read my mind before you became a Phantom.
He almost begs.
Friends of Hellas Sviatoslav says, wearing a Brestplate, what looks to be armored trousers, and shouldergards marked with the 3 white stripes on black of his tribe.
I, we, am grateful to receive your hospitality, yet I recall a certain specification to be made when accepting hospitality from Spartans? As such
Both he and his phantom start singing, his phantom generating some pretty heavy beats with some very small thing flashing bright lights on occassion.
At dawn, envoy arrives
Morning of October 28th
No-day proven by deed
Descendants of Sparta
Athens, and Crete
Look east, ready to fight
Enemies charge upthe hills
True arms facing defeat
There's no surrender, there's no retreat
Time after time, force their enemies back to the line.
Call to arms, banners fly in the wind
For the glory of Hellas
Coat of Arms reading "Freedom or Death"
Blood of King Leonidas!
Advance , pounding the land
Archers are shooting both day and night
Endure, six days of rain
Fired by invaders
Fired in vain!
Strike hard the tables have turned
Drive them back over the hills
At arms just like before
Soldiers, civilians, Hellas at war
By their own hand forced the enemy out of their land
Call to arms, banners fly in the wind
For the glory of Hellas
Coat of Arms reading "Freedom or Death"
Blood of King Leonidas!
Just like their ancestors ages ago
Fought in the face of defeat
Those 300 men left a pride to uphold:
Freedom or Death in effect
Then, now again
Blood of heroes saving their land
Call to arms, banners fly in the wind
For the glory of Hellas
Coat of Arms reading "Freedom or Death"
Blood of King Leonidas!
Call to arms, banners fly in the wind
For the glory of Hellas
Coat of Arms reading "Freedom or Death"
Blood of King Leonidas!
After the crowd calms down he pauses.
As for the competitions, anything that is a test of strength and endurance I am honor bound to partake in. My thanks for having a stranger, and the glory of the gods to you who do no fear challenge on that account, for I will strive for victory with every fibre of my body!
What competition will you take apart of? wrestling, bowmanship/target practice, swords, spears, loadstone toss/shotput, etc.
Who is your sponsor? (You don't have to have one...)
What are you wearing?
Please describe yourself as you come upon the stage!
Next, another dwarf walked up on stage. Very different from the first one, this dwarf wore only a chiton at the waist and expensive looking boots. This dwarf has dark grey skin, white hair and a beard with dangerous deep purple eyes. His heavily-muscled chest, arms, and shoulder on full display in the hot sun. Several of the more gentle folk in the audience looked visibly concerned being near this individual.
"I am Plutark Gallowstone!", the dark dwarf bellowed over the crowd, as he began to flex his muscles for the crowd."I have come to this City of Clouds to compete in swimming, spear throw, loadstone toss, climbing, bowmansip, and armed combat!"
"Glory to Lord Hades and Glory to the Gods!"
Plutark then walked off stage to a small boy holding a mithril shirt and other gear. The Thanosian took the waiting armor from the boy to put back on, along with the gear.
Hundreds of others are announced and make similar proclamations with posturing. Be it boasting or exaggeration, each and everyone one of them seem to be in just athletic shape as the ideal Greek man. About a tenth of the competitors are females, like the others mostly humans. They are ready to show their prowess in this field of athleticism.
One fellow at the end of the day comes along that makes the crowd boo.
This halfling is not like many who have seen in greece. This one is from the South, from the deserts of Africa. Not an egyptian but something more.
His mohawk is decorated with feathers, beads, and dyed different colors. He is likely the shortest competitor. Though with strange force his voice is louder than those before him. "Be still, lest I be provoked. I was invited as much as those you would call your champions. But like the druegar, I say, Glory to the Gods! May the best competitor win."
|
Though the regards of outrage are replaced with silence and aghast looks, as one of the last competitors walks out in his calm demeanor of an elf.
Tall and lean elf holds his posture straight and true, all 5’9”. His frame is about average for most elves; though you can tell that he is very fit and there is no extra weight on his frame. He appears to be ageless, with not a single grey hair in the pure stark black hair. His unnaturally straight hair is kept in a topknot, though if let out the hair touches the back of his knees. His eyes are a deep blue some would say if you looked into them your own heart could freeze over, they never show emotion in public and it will take quite a bit of time until he lets another be called friend. His untarnished pale skin is spotless besides the blazing red tattoos upon his face, sigifying him as a kinslayer and slaver.
Once the halfling gets offstage, Plutark walks over to the similarly mohawked fighter.
"And who are you that know my race's ancient truename?" The Thanosian asked.
Pfft, Slavers Sviatoslav thinks
Taking thralls is proper, but they can stop being thralls and their children are born free. Slavery though?
Them greeks are pretty chill about me having Wings though, and a Phantom partner, funnily enough.
Sviatoslav surveys things for now.
With a sly grin on his face he responds to Plutark, "I am Baris the Monkee. I come from the far South, from the lion run savannahs. There is a portal in one of our sacred places that allows us to test our mettle. This portal opens up near Hades. Where I and my pack met with some of your kin."
The next day, there is a parade into the coliseum of the competitors of the first events. The shotput/loadstone toss, the javelin throw, races, the high jump and the club event.
shotput/loadstone toss, Str DC 15/25, x3
the javelin throw, Str DC 15, x3
races:
50 meter dash: Con DC 10, Str DC 10
100 meter dash: 2 checks, Con DC 15, Str DC 15
the mile dash: 5 checks, Con DC 20, Str DC 20
5 kilometer marathon: 7 checks, Con DC 15
high jump: Dex DC 15, 20, 25
club event: clubs, maces, and such, close combat 50 combatants, one on one fights.
"I am Baris the Monkee. I come from the far South, from the lion run savannahs. There is a portal in one of our sacred places that allows us to test our mettle. This portal opens up near Hades. Where I and my pack met with some of your kin."
Plutark barks out a laugh. "And you lived to tell the tale. My people aren't known for their 'hospitality'." The Thanosian shakes the diminutive hand.
After his other events, Plutark waited on the sidelines for the club event to begin.
The little halfling responds with a vigorous shake but there is surprising strength there as well. He scoffs and then replies to the Thanosian, "Oh I know, though mindflayers and drow are worse."
As most of the combatants come to the arena with iron maces, or large cudgels, the halfling has well polished and smooth wooden batons. He looks around ready for the fight.
"Let us engage in sport! Fling caution to the wind and display your skill!"
"Just like clearing stones from the fields at home. As you keep throwing them aside, each lands closer to the field!"
"I do not understand how you good men are gripping this? It seems to simply fall out of my hand every time!"
"Bah! Never cared for spear fishing . . .."
"Now, for this club fight. Can I go unarmed? Do I have to carry the club? Can I carry it but not use it?"
Kallikles is the clear winner of the shotput.
Plutark barely beats out two of the other competitors in the loadstone toss.
Plutark and Baris tie for first place for the javelin event.
Plutark also pulls out the win with the high jump, being surprisingly dexterous.
Kallikles wins the 100 meter dash and the 5K marathon.
With each win you are given the choice of selecting one of the following gifts upon a fancy pillow. A golden peacock feather, a silver dagger, a scepter with an aquamarine on its top, a golden rod, a brass flute, a well made lute designed with dragon motiffs, a silver chime with many runes upon it, an unbroken geode the size of a head, and a loadstone.
The club event can be done with just your hands, most will use their weapons.
With each win you are given the choice of selecting one of the following gifts upon a fancy pillow. A golden peacock feather, a silver dagger, a scepter with an aquamarine on its top, a golden rod, a brass flute, a well made lute designed with dragon motiffs, a silver chime with many runes upon it, an unbroken geode the size of a head, and a loadstone.
Plutark claims a golden rod for his loadstone toss, a a golden rod for his tie with Baris, and a unbroken geode for the high jump. Each time the Thanosian holds the prize high in the air (for him) for all the spectators to see.
The club event can be done with just your hands, most will use their weapons.
Hit!
Hit!
Hit!
The opponent just hit Plutark's AC each time. I believe Plutark's last hit missed, but we were not told the Opponent's AC. It looks like the Thanosian is out in the first round.
For winning the shotput, the dwarf seems grossly entertained to select the golden peacock feather as his prize.
After winning the 100 meter dash, he selects the Silver Chime.
And after winning the longer run, he selects the Brass Flute.
Not sure ANY of those hit, so I'll stop at the "swing and a miss" possible stand-off.
Plutark is out on the first round of the mace fight. Kallikles wins his fourth round with the only hit that round.
Round 10: Fight against Baris. No one has been able to hit him in combat yet and he uses a flurry of blows soon after they attack him to get two of the three attacks in...
**^** Round 10 Fight! **^**
Round 1
once you approach him and swing. He simply touches you.
Round 2
He sweeps in with his batons going for strikes...
The announcer had introduced the two competitors to the crowd with great effect. The crowd begin to cheer! He also explained the rules of the final match. "They will fight until one of them asks for mercy or out cold on the ground."
After the first three rounds the announcer adds, "It looks like Kallikies is shining to be the victor. He has landed several blows already. WAIT, WHAT IS THIS? It looks like Baris can take a lick and keep on going!"
By the end of Round 10, Baris looks like he is still in this fight but has only landed two blows. The announcer says, "Folks Baris keeps taking a beating and Kallikies has the perfect defense. This is turning out to be a grand finale!"
Round 3
By the end of Round 3 there is only a smidge of blood on his lips. He grins and lets out all the stops.
Round 4
Round 5
Round 6
Round 7
Round 8
Round 9
Round 10
During the battle royale, a human man comes up to Plutark and opens a small wooden box. The Thanosian nods and puts the golden rod in the box, for the messenger. Plutark's sponsor for the games takes his cut of the winning and leaves.
As round 4 begins, the Ikarian looks at his foe and says "Well, I've had enough of this." and changes tactics.
Round 4:
Round 5:
Round 6 (Assuming still pinned, will alter if not):
Round 7 (Assuming still pinned, will alter if not):
Etc.
Kalikles grabs onto the halfling and quickly pins him. With that done the crowd cheers and the announcer announces the victor, "Folks this is unexpected change of events. It looks like Kalikles has pinned his opponent. Nothing much he can do, at this point it looks like the match goes to Kalikles, though I will wait for a ruling from the judges. Kalikles you can let your opponent go."
You can see the judges are having a heated argument. After a few minutes a runner is sent from the judges and goes to the announcer with the ruling. The announcer looks amazed at the ruling and takes a moment before he states, "This was the Maces and blunt weapons tournament, unfortunately using a grapple in this case is not a valid route to win. With this in mind Kalikles is disqualified and the win goes to Baris!"
The crowd has mixed feelings about the end results, many of them get up to get out of the collesium before the throngs of people depart.
Plutark looks on dispassionately as the Laurels of Victory are taken from the surface dwarf.
"Bah! You said I didn't have to use the clubs! Everyone here knows that wrestling is the sport of men!"
Obviously, Kallikles isn't accepting the declared forfeit as the correct response.
The announcer asks, "This is the lase event for the day, please come back tomorrow and don't forget your free refill for anyone that bought a mug from the Dark Brewery."
The judges continue to talk amongst themselves. A steward comes forward to Kallikles and Baris bring each of them a towel.
---
Standing and pontificating. I have already bested the halfling. Threatening the judges is, at best, rude, and absolutely counter-productive.
Have you never seen a baseball player dispute a call up to the edge (or beyond) of being thrown out of the game? All words.
That afternoon, Kallikles will join the celebrations that should be happening. A little merriment is good for the soul, after all.
With his Ki Metabolism, Kallikles is awake far more than not, so without a timeframe, I'll guess he's awake . . ..
Combat? He calls out as he heads for a space open enough to spread his wings, "To arms! To arms! An attack!" Then he leaps into the air and begins flying towards the commotion.
Nighttime was always a fickle time for Plutark. The Thanosian lived on the surface now and worked during the horrible daytime. At nighttime, after a long day, Plutark was often tired; yet with the sun finally down, the dark dwarf's eyes could relax and cease to ache.
Plutark was pondering this nightly dilemma, slowly drifting off to sleep. Only to be startled back to full consciousness but the cries of battle said with a dwarven accent.
Plutark immediately began to put on his armor, helm and weapons. Someone was going to be very sorry. "TO ARMS!!"
The judges don't change their minds and disperse once the mob is gone.
---
Plutark gets to he battle eventually.
On your way over you did see your halfling rival down an alley fighting cloaked men. Not even 30 feet from the battle.
Round 1:
Sviatoslav, seeing nothing in the rules about not casting shield, has it on as he enters the arena. His AC is quite solid at 25 because of this.
Total damage Sviatoslav: 37 or 52
Total damage round 1 enemy: 34, Sviatoslav wins either way.
Round 2:
Sviatoslav, starts the next fight.
Total damage Sviatoslav: 14 or 28
Total damage Opponent:0
Sviatoslav wins
Round 3:
Total damage Sviatoslav: 13 or 26
Total damage Opponent:0
Round 4:
Total damage Sviatoslav: 28 or more
Total damage Opponent:18
Sviatoslav advances further.
Round 5:
Total damage Sviatoslav: 27or more
Total damage Opponent:12
Sviatoslav advances further.
Round 6:
Sviatoslav, seeing nothing in the rules about not casting shield, has it on as he enters the arena. His AC is quite solid at 22 because of this.
Total damage Sviatoslav: 29
Total damage round 1 enemy: 20, Sviatoslav wins either way.
Round 7:
Sviatoslav, seeing nothing in the rules about not casting shield, has it on as he enters the arena. His AC is quite solid at 22 because of this.
[spoiler=rounds 6 to hopefully 10]
Total damage Sviatoslav: 28
Total damage round 1 enemy: 0, Sviatoslav wins either way.
Round 8:
Sviatoslav, seeing nothing in the rules about not casting shield, has it on as he enters the arena. His AC is quite solid at 25 because of this.
[spoiler=rounds 6 to hopefully 10]
Total damage Sviatoslav: 0
Total damage round 1 enemy: 15, Sviatoslav drops out in round 8.
The burly half fiend Slavs makes it to the top 10, dropping out in round 8, showing to be a good sport, he shall perform to boost the one who bested him, clearly believing that losing to anyone but the champion would mean dishonor for the 3 stripes clan.
Oh vey, my hubby made it to the top 10 of some primitive brawling bullshit. Now watch him get drunk and fall asleep in bed, which unfortunately punts me back into his effing mancave of a mindspace. Sigh.
The spectral figure of Victoria is regaling her strange IPOD in her native slavic tounge, while manifesting "I am with stupid" in greek, on her spectral dress.
Sviatoslav keeps sleeping for now.
Seeing Baris in the alley, so close to the main fight, Kallikles suspects some trickery, and flies into the alley, putting the cloaked figures between himself and Baris, and then folding his wings away.
"With all the commotion over there, I am surprised to see this lot here. Care to explain yourselves?"
One of the cloaked men sneers, "Another short folk that thinks the venom will not harm him! Men kill them both."
With a flick of his arm a centipede the size of his arm is flung at Kallikles, he dodges it easily. The other three men draw their blades which look like a pincer. After the fight commences and movement happens or the tearing of their cloaks, you see the pincers are actually melded to the end of their arms.
The others actions will likely determine what happens next. We will see.
Flesh crafted tough - rogue 6 CR 5
AC 21
Dr3/-
hp 60 (6d8+30)
Fort +6, Ref +10, Will +5; +2 vs. poison, spells, and spell-like abilities
scizore +8 (1d10+3) or scizore flurry of blows +6/+6 (1d10+3)
Sneak attack +2d6
Boss CR 6
He quickly states, "I stopped them and their superiority talk is demeaning. They have no clue we are their betters. Also they have spoken of the divine black ones, so my guess is they are cultists. Possibly the ones who brought the main threat." With that said he steps up beside the dwarf and releases a flurry of blows. Two of them hit but the halfling is surprised how solid standing his opponent is as a lesser man should at least show the pain from his blows.
The Ikarian looks at the insect even as he sidesteps it. Then he turns his attention to the cloaked figures themselves. "Did you not get enough attention at home? Daddy was right, by the way. Not all attention is good attention."
And he joins the fight.
Both of his hand strikes land true, but his follow-up elbow proves ineffective, glancing off the implants?
Plutark arrives on the scene in Round 4. After Baris and Kallikles get their combat on with the insect themed toughs.
Round 1-4
In this time assuming you continue with conventional methods they only strike each of you once. Their leader goes down the alley away from the fight and vanishes in the first round.
Round 2
Sviatoslav actually wakes up in the second turn, in his studded leather armor he uses as a Pyjama. Hearing the commotion, he grabs his enchanted Bardiche, steps out and starts performing loudly to rally and rouse more people.
My anger burns at this cowardly raid As the weapons of everyone but the cultists erupt in flames (assuming they are at least +1 or otherwise count as magical).
Round 3
He charges a cultist, flying up in the air out of their reach
Round 4:
He hits a different cultist, Staying mobile and flying above them.
Round 5
They swing and continue to miss. They each take a step back. The other two go for a full retreat. By now the guard has been overrun. The black bodied insect monsters come charging down the alley. Also those with an aerial view begin to see them ascend the buildings.
Round 1-5
He defends with the batons mostly looking for his opportunity to hit with baton, leg, elbow, or head keeping his enemies guessing. He only gets a few good hits in and barely do any damage.
1
2
3
4
5
Round 5
Plutark finds two figures coming towards him, they each have insect like pincer that doubles as their melee weapon. He brings the warhammer down, hurting the one before him.
You can see the fear in their eyes. Though you see the true terror as the pincer and the insect it is attached to seperates from the tough. The man drops to the ground as blood pools around him. Meanwhile the dark body of an insect body forms and prepares to attack.
He tumbles forward using the batons on the ground to give him a bit more umph. His blows smash into the insect, though they don't do much damage.
Sviatoslav hovers over his previous foe and strikes it again
Fight on, warriors Brave!
Where is their King
that most vile knave
As with furious grin
his doom I bring
He seeks to take stock of the situation, what is going on, where is the nastiest looking foe, or the possible ally in the most trouble.